Deathbed
by boonadducious
Summary: NEW CHAPTER. Spock Prime discovers he is dying, and there is only one place he wants to be. Warning: Major Character Death.
1. Chapter 1

__Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek in any way shape or form. This is for fits and giggles.

_I can smell the death on the sheets,_  
_Covering me_  
_I can't believe_  
_This is the end._

_I can feel those sad memories,_  
_Still haunting me_  
_So many things _  
_I'd do again._

_But this is my deathbed,_  
_Lie here alone_  
_If I close my eyes tonight,_  
_I know I'll be home_.

I remember vividly the moment I found out my time was nearly passed. The Vulcan healer, T'Remberale, had been one of his only friends in primary school, so I felt especially close to her. If I had not been already bonded to T'Pring, or not had the suspicion I was not attracted to women, I would have tried to form a romantic attachment in our adolescence. I could not help but rejoice when I heard her younger counterpart had survived Vulcan's destruction, and I insisted on having her as my physician when I discovered I was having neurological symptoms along with disturbing mental lapses.

"Brain cancer," the healer had said. If I did not know any better, I would say her voice quivered slightly.

No matter how great her lapse was, mine was far more noticeable, although it only lasted 1.29 seconds.

"Vulcans do not develop cancer," I said, although I knew it was illogical the moment the words left my lips. It had been years since I had recognized these denials for what they were - desperate attempts to fit into a world which did not totally accept me. However, the shock of the news clearly caused old habits to return with a vengeance.

"No, but humans do," T'Remberale replied. "And despite your attempts to hide it, your scans make it clear you have human blood. It is in the advanced stages, and in a location were excision would inevitably lead to death."

I knew what she was telling me. I was dying. "There is...nothing to be done?"

"I'm afraid not, Selek," the young healer said, shaking her head.

Even after two years in this timeline, it still felt strange to hear this name in reference to me. It also haunted me, and reminded me of what I had lost. When Jim went missing, I realized I had spent a lifetime hiding who I was. I tried to suppress my human side, and then later my homosexual side. My love for Jim allowed for me to shirk both burdens, but only when he was gone did I realize how those burdens prevented me from living a full life. Now that I was in the past, I was hiding behind a generic identity so the present Spock could attain full glory. It was only when the young healer spoke my name in the context of a fatal diagnosis that I realized I was once again hiding, going back to the mistakes of the young adulthood.

I fought the urge to correct her and say that my name was Spock, and I had a long and illustrious career in Starfleet. I was the bondmate and husband of Captain James T. Kirk, and son of Sarek and Amanda. I could not do this, for fear of my younger self. I then knew my acceptance of being trapped away from my home and identity was not as deep as I had thought.

"How long?" Was what I ended up saying, sitting a straight and stoic as any good Vulcan should.

T'Remberale paused before saying, "Two months."

I did not say anything more as I left the office. I cannot remember saying customary Vulcan salutations quicker than I had in that moment.

I entered my temporary quarters, which lately had become like a cage. The view of our New Vulcan planet came through a small window no more than two square feet, and the rest was surrounded by thin walls which shook during the slightest dust storm. In a way, I attempted to ease my mind about the less-than-ideal arrangement by thinking about how my Enterprise quarters would shake similarly when the warp engines became taxed, but my mind was far too logical for role playing. The fact I even entertained the idea should have been the first sign my mind was weakening.

The apartment felt far too large, and at the same time confining. Never had the area felt more lonely than it had at that moment. As flimsy as the quarters had been, this had been my only sanctuary from the burden of being a man from the future. I needed to show an impenetrable image - particularly to Jim's younger counterpart - so the recommendations I made could be taken seriously. Now, I could not stay here. Even meditation seemed unacceptable. I felt staying in this place any longer would only make me feel the seconds ticking by all the more toward the inevitable end.

I should have been more prepared for death. I was approaching the age my father was when he died, and I knew my hybrid physiology would not allow me to go much longer than his 202. Now that my days were numbered, I saw what denial I had been in. I had already died once, and my experience of it was much like going to sleep. I did have few vague recollections of seeing through McCoy's eyes, but these felt like a dream more than anything else. That experience worked to my detriment, making death seem far less permanent in my mind, and allowing me to think I was invincible. During our final five year mission, my impulsivity had started to match my beloved's.

Reality managed to get my attention again as I sat on the bedside of Leonard McCoy when he finally passed after more than 150 years of life. His daughter, grandchildren, and great grandchildren were there, and well as Mr. Scott. I thought vaguely about who would be at my deathbed when I went, and I then remembered how fast my time was approaching. I was tempted to take Leonard's katra, so he could be preserved somehow, but he refused. He wanted his soul to be free, so he could see what was on the other side. Vulcans thought it illogical to allow the essence of a person simply vanish after all the soul had gone through, but I understood the human inclination to not be caught on this plane while there could be so much more beyond.

So I saw one of my best friends pass, and I faced my remaining time with even fewer people to share it with. This made the decision to stay on Romulus and foster the Surakian ideals much easier.

A stabbing pain in the back of my head brought my mind back to the present. I tried to control the pain, but such actions were becoming more difficult. I leaned on my dresser, over the drawer I found myself coming to quite often as of late. Automatically, I opened it and pulled a tattered, old fashioned photograph from underneath my folded traditional robes. I had it on my person when I went through the wormhole, and illogically, it gave me strength as I watched my planet disappear and come to the realization I was never going home.

On the paper was Jim's official Starfleet portrait from right before the Klingon peace treaty. The ink was starting to fade from my constant handling of it, but I could not bring myself to care. I extended two fingers and touched the printed face.

"I should have been with you," I whispered, not for the first time.

The ticking seconds weighed heavier the more I stood in the one spot. I needed to get out and do something, anything. I could not waste anymore time dwelling on a past which likely did not exist anymore. I hid the picture and walked out the door. Before I could stop myself, I was ringing the bell on Sarek's office door.

"Come," I heard from within.

I entered to see the younger version of my father perusing his PADD while sitting straight on his desk. My contemplative mood once again reared its ugly head as I thought about the time immediately after my own Sarek's death, and the mind meld I initiated with Captain Picard. The first memory of the meld was my father on his deathbed, shouting nonsense and betraying weakness. Although illogical, the image terrified me, so I immediately blocked it. I then thought on the deepest regrets, the worst being that he never told me or my mother he loved us. This revelation brought me to tears in Captain Picard's presence, but instead of disdain, the younger captain sent understanding my way. I had cried for lost opportunities at the time. Part of the fault was indeed Sarek's, but I also needed to take some of the blame. In my quest to be the perfect Vulcan, I became just as emotionally cut off as he was toward me.

This version of Sarek appeared to be mending fences with Spock, and allowing understanding to flow between the two. It was regrettable it took Amanda's death before such a thing could happen.

"Selek?"

I looked up to see Sarek's fingers split in the ta'al. I mirrored his gesture, and murmured the traditional greeting.

"What is troubling you, Selek?" The younger man said as he gestured toward the empty chair in his office. Even after two years, the second-hand furniture in his office still not had been replaced, which was unfortunate since they were not terribly comfortable for a man in his second century of life.

"I met with our healer today," I said, trying to regain some of the dignity I lost during my earlier distraction. "She reported I have an inoperable form of brain cancer which will be taking my life within two months."

Sarek's eyebrow twitched, but otherwise he did not physically react.

"I grieve with thee," he said after a beat. "However, I must urge to to receive a second opinion. It is not possible for Vulcans to develop cancer."

I fought the urge to sigh. The ticking seconds again echoed in my head, and pushed me to seize this opportunity. "It is quite possible for me, since I am half human."

"Half human," Sarek repeated. "According to the reports from your timeline, you would be 28 years old in this current year, granted you survived. I know of no other hybrids of that age, with the exception of..."

Realization dawned in Sarek's eyes. He looked at me with a Vulcan approximation of awe. More urges sprung up within me to tell him all the things I had not told my own father, but I knew this was my counterpart's place, not mine. The Sarek before me was a different man, who had raised a different Spock. Clearly, the destruction of the Kelvin had caused ripples in the galaxy beyond Earth.

"Your name is not Selek," was the verbal response I received. It seemed below my father to say such an obvious observation.

"No. As you have surmised, it is Spock, son of Sarek."

Sarek rose from his chair and came from behind his desk to look at me face-to-face. I rose in turn, although it required more effort than usual. Sarek extended his hand toward me, silently asking for our minds to touch. This was the quickest way in which we could exchange information, and I accepted.

I showed everything I could about my timeline, as well as the life I had led. It felt like hours before we broke apart, and Sarek was breathing heavily, as if he had climbed one of Old Vulcan's highest mountains. I felt a heaviness in my throat, as well as wetness on my eyes. I knew they would be noticed by my father, and instinct caused terror at the idea.

"Your world is...different," Sarek said, now breathing normally.

"Not in all ways," I croaked. I could not read my father's features. He did not make himself known to me in the meld, although I saw glimmers of sadness at the face of my mother and him growing old together. I also sensed there was happiness when he saw the relationship I had formed with Jim, although I could not think of why. My own Sarek did not approve, at least outwardly.

"We must make final arrangements," Sarek said, his stance returning to business.

I sniffed and returned to my chair, my knees shaking from over exertion.

"Selek," said Sarek in a softer voice. "I...realize you do not have family here, but there is little I can offer in the way of...comfort."

"It is illogical to seek...comfort upon death."

"Spock," I jumped at the use of my name. I could feel tears brimming again and used everything within to hold them back. "I have been far more tolerant of a dying man's logic since everything I knew has been destroyed."

I nodded, but did not answer. I felt his pain. My home was no more just as his was. I could not even have the comfort of dying in my ancestral house, or being buried in my family's plot, or storing my katra in the Hall of Memories. Even if those things were available to me, it would not feel right using them since they still were not mine. They belonged to another Spock, who lived another life. My life, and all I had accomplished, was gone. Destroyed with a misplaced black hole and a vengeful Romulan. Everything I had done to give my life meaning was erased, and now I felt like a man with no accomplishments, adrift.

"Selek, you are crying."

"I am aware of this, Sarek. Forgive me. My controls...they are..."

"Do not apologize," said my father, with compassion in his voice. "You...sounded exactly like my son just then."

As I avoided Sarek's gaze, I realized how old habits were hard to break. I did not know what I was accomplishing being here, besides making the leader of the Vulcan High Council aware one of their wisest assets would soon be gone. I could not possibly make final arrangements on New Vulcan. There was only one place I wanted to be - the last place I felt at home.

"Sarek," I said. "Would it be possible to die...on the Enterprise?"

The transporter room of the Enterprise materialized, and the first face I saw was the only one I wanted to see. Jim stood in his command gold, a smile spread across his face, and his hand formed in the ta'al. I knew my captain well enough to know when he was hiding something, and behind the smile I detected sadness - the same sadness I saw when I told him of my condition over comm link two weeks ago. I could also tell he was shocked at my appearance. I was in a wheelchair being pushed by T'Remberale. I had eaten very little in the past week, and my clothes could have fallen off if I stood upright.

"Ambassador," Jim said as he approached my chair. He knelt on one knee in front of me before saying, "As much as the circumstances pain me, I'm happy you chose the Enterprise to..." The captain hesitated. "...spend your final days."

"Thank you, captain," I said in my much weaker voice, lifting one of my hands to grasp his shoulder.

Jim covered my hand with his own and squeezed. Our relationship had grown deeper in the two years since he had taken command. We tried not to broach the subject of my counterpart, or the blossoming friendship between the younger men, because we thought we had cheated a little too much. However, this changed when Jim, in a panic, called me saying how he now knew he was in love with Spock, and needed to know if romance had happened in our timeline. I could not contain the joy I felt at Jim realizing his feelings for Spock, but I used discretion in what I revealed. Over the next week or so, I talked with Jim every day, until he finally reported there was a confession and a long night of passion between him and Spock. That was a month ago, and from what I had heard, they were still doing well as a couple, and discussing possibilities of marriage. Seeing their beautiful relationship only made me ache all the more for my own Jim, and all the time we wasted.

"Spock wanted to be here," the captain said. "But...it's still kind if weird for him."

I nodded. I had not talked to my younger self nearly as much as I had with Jim. I understood Spock's position, although I would have loved to get to know the man who shared my DNA. I wanted nothing more than to tell him what he was going to see, and what he could not miss. However, I knew this would be a mistake. I knew he needed to have both the joy and the sorrows in this timeline in order to have a full life.

Jim nodded to T'Remberale and wheeled me to the quarters I would be occupying. Once inside, I saw my younger self setting up a small table with a tea set. Based on the smell, the pot must have had Vulcan tea, complete with the pain relieving properties.

"Captain," Spock said once he saw our entrance. "Selek," he said, looking me in the eye, although his demeanor showed he wanted to do anything but. There was a slight level of discomfort with me before my illness, and now it appeared to have amplified. True, a crew member walking down the hall would not notice the discomfort, but I knew myself better than anyone.

"Hello Spock," I croaked, feeling somewhat self conscious at my breathy voice. "I wanted to offer my congratulations to the both of you."

"Thank you," Spock said, shooting a small smile to Jim. "I never thanked you for making our relationship possible."

"You do not need to," I said, before my body twitched in a violent spasm.

"Here, lets get you into bed," Jim said as he scooped me up into his arms and placed me into the bunk. Spock helped him pull the Vulcan silks over me, and then propped my pillows up to make for easier breathing. He then handed a steaming tea cup to me and I sipped, allowing the aroma to flow into my nostrils and clear my head.

"Is there anything else you need?" Jim asked, leaning close to me.

I looked at him, the concern lining his face, and I felt the rush of love I had not known in years. He looked so much like my Jim, I temporarily forgot where I was, and who I was talking to. I lifted a trembling hand and tenderly stroked his cheek. Reality crashed down on me once I saw the shocked look on his face, I withdrew, embarrassed.

"Not right now," I said, staring at my hands.

Later that night, Dr. McCoy came and evaluated me, and reported my Vulcan healer might have been too optimistic about how long I would live.

"Do you want me to be blunt, Ambassador?" The doctor asked.

I thought back to the final time I saw Leonard's eyes open and alive, as well as the many times since I wished I could hear his bluntness again.

"Please, be honest," I replied. I glanced toward Jim, who had not been frightened away by my lapse earlier, but stood guard by his best friend's side. I did not remember where Spock went, although I could not help but think my affections toward his lover made him uncomfortable.

"Selek, I don't see how you will last the week," the doctor finally said. "The tumor is pressing on your brain stem, and it seems to be growing by the minute, Soon your organs will shut down, and...well, we all know what happens after that."

"I see," I said nodding. The ticking seconds were so loud now, I might as well have been within the large Terran clock in London Jim had called "Big Ben." However, I was now to the point where there was little I could do with my remaining time except think.

"I want to stay with him," Jim said to the doctor. There was a muffled conversation I could not make out due to a sudden attack of loud ringing in my ears, but once it passed, Jim was alone and holding my hand.

"But...Jim...you're the Captain."

"Technically, so are you," Jim said grinning. "Besides, I've already talked with Spock. He's gonna take over the ship for me while I stay with you. You shouldn't be alone."

Once my eyes started to get wet, I realized I had likely cried more in the past month than in my entire life before. I turned away from him, ashamed. I still harbored the need to be strong for him, although now it was a moot point. To my surprise, Jim used his fingers to guide my face so it was facing him again.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," he said. "You should be in your own time, with your own family."

I wanted to agree with him, until I realized I would not have anyone to go back to in the other timeline, with the exception of my people. In this world, those I loved had been returned to me.

"I am...where I am supposed to be," I said. "Jim, I would like to sleep now." When his eyes got wide, I squeezed his hand. "Not forever."

Jim nodded and ordered the computer to turn the lights off. He did not let go of my hand as I drifted to sleep.

Two days had gone by, and I did not feel any different, with the exception of the headaches getting worse. Medicine from Dr. McCoy had helped me stay afloat mentally, and kept the worst of the pain at bay.

Jim had to attend to a small crisis involving a potential Federation planet, so he had to leave my side for about two hours. I was pleasantly surprised to find his lover taking his place.

I did not blame my younger self for his avoidance of me. I could only imagine what it would be like for me to see an older version of me while I was in the prime of life. Now that I was dying, it must have been all the more awkward.

Spock sat in the lounge chair beside my bed, working on his PADD and occasionally glancing at the portable monitors Dr. McCoy had installed. I could tell he was frightened to look at me, and my eyes on him were no doubt making his task harder. I was struck with how relaxed he looked, despite the tense situation he now found himself in. I only realized later how much of a toll the repression of my romantic feelings toward my own gender had taken on me. While Starfleet was accepting of such people, my specific clan was not. Now that Spock was with the Captain, and our clan's convictions eased due to near-extinction, none of the tension I had carried seemed to burden him. I could not help but feel envious.

I soon realized I was not able to tolerate tension as well as I used to, so I resolved myself to speak. "Spock." I said in a whisper.

The younger man flinched as if he had been slapped. I noticed the PADD almost fell from his hands.

"Selek," he said, closing his eyes and gripping the PADD as if it would fall apart if he let go. "I...do not know what to say to you."

"I surmised as much," I replied. "That does not mean you do not want to speak."

"This is...true. I hope you realize how frightening it is for one to know me as well as you do."

I nodded in understanding. "Fright is an understandable emotion."

"No," said Spock. "Vulcans are not frightened of death."

"Now you are sounding like I did at your age," I replied. "I tried so hard to be the perfect Vulcan...to prove I deserved to be among my race. I did not control my emotions, I suppressed them. I tried to pretend they did not exist. This was not the way of my people, but I had to pretend..." I was interrupted with a tightness in my chest which turned into a violent coughing fit, proving my lungs were getting weaker. Spock was by my side at once, helping me sit upright and secure an oxygen mask on my face. Once my faculties were restored, I noticed how the fear and sorrow from my younger self had begun to flow through our physical contact.

This young man had been through so much more than I had, despite the fewer burdens. He had lost his entire people, including his mother, on the same day. He had his emotional controls tested in more ways than I could imagine. Instead of retreating like I had on so many occasions, he had risen to the challenge and embraced both sides of himself to do it. He was growing into a man with a growing career and a loving mate. Whatever new challenges this new timeline brought, there was no doubt he would face them bravely.

I again looked him in the eye, noticing the same emotions prominent on his face. One of his arms was around my back, and the other was supporting my shoulder. I had noticed my condition made me much braver when in close proximity to others, so I slid my bony hand to grip one of his arms, trying to project all the pride through the simple touch.

This would have been sufficient if I were Vulcan, but I was also half-human. The moment would not be complete without words.

"I am very proud of you, Spock. You are such a fine young man. I do not need to know your future to know you will be something great."

I did not expect expect the sob which came out of him, although I should have. The proximity to a dying Vulcan was likely having a negative effect on his emotional control, especially when his own emotions were so chaotic on their own. He did not do what I predicted and separate to pull himself together. Instead, he collected me in his arms and cried into my shoulder.

"You have done so much for us," he said, gripping the fabric of my robe. "I cannot explain, but I love you as I do my own father."

I tried to return the hug as best as I could, but could not lift high enough to mirror his actions, so I settled for burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"Do not try to explain it," I said, letting his tears soak my clothing. "Simply let it be."

My time sense had been long dead, so I did not know how long Spock had held my wasted body like this, but I could feel the bone-deep exhaustion from him as he pulled away. He laid me gently against the pillows and stood straight, taking several deep breaths to get himself under control.

"W-who do you plan on imparting your katra to?" He asked me.

I had not thought about this. I had already given my katra to Leonard McCoy once, but I had no one in mind during this death. The truth was there was no place to put my soul. The Hall of Memories was gone, and the billions of souls with it. New Vulcan was in the process of building a new resting place, but the sorrow over so many katras being lost made the process seem futile. While there were many in the future to preserve, the idea they could be gone in an instant made the process feel pointless.

The idea of storing my katra anywhere felt incredibly confining. It also seemed to be a resolution to never see my Jim again. Vulcans traditionally did not find it logical to risk the loss of everything a katra had gained. True, there might be a destination for the soul, but there might not be. Either way, I was willing to accept the risk and shuck certainty. The bond I felt with Jim had been severed for years, but there was always a slight glimmer in the back of my mind which indicated his continued existence. Other Vulcans experienced this and resolved the continued existence of the katra in the Hall of Memories as the reason. However, my own experience showed otherwise, and my meld with Captain Picard proved my father felt the same glimmer after Mother died. Logically, this shows the glimmer was something other than a continued connection, but to me, it was proof that somewhere out there, my Jim still existed, and was waiting for me.

This tiny glimmer was the only indication I had my Jim did not disappear, nor did the other timeline which produced him. It was the only hope I had all I had accomplished still meant something in some other universe. Although this glimmer was nothing I counted on when I was in better health, now I clung to it with all my might.

"I do not plan on giving my katra to anyone," I replied.

Spock's eyes went wide. "But...you will be lost."

"I will not," I said with a confidence I was not sure I possessed. "I have someone to find."

"There is no reason to believe you will be reunited," Spock insisted. I know why he was making his pleas, but it still hurt to hear him dismiss my wishes. "To allow all of what you are to be at the mercy of the universe, especially with all the katras we lost...I cannot allow it."

"I know," I said, nodding. "But I must ask you to. I am tired, and I...want to be free. Please, Spock. This is what I want."

Spock looked like he was going to cry again, but this time he expertly pushed away the urge.

"As you wish," he said with some anger in his voice. "But I must remind you this will be a grave loss to our endangered race."

"I thought you were above emotional manipulation, Spock," I said with a small smile.

"I was doing nothing of the sort."

"Of course not," I replied, smile still on my lips.

A few seconds of silence passed before Spock said, "I do not know if I can bear to be by your side when the time comes."

I furrowed my brow, and nodded. I would be in the same position if I were him.

"I owe you an explanation why."

"No explanation is necessary, Spock."

"No, I must tell you. I...you will need Jim with you in your final moments. And...I do not trust myself not to feel jealous and angry when I should not."

This was something I did not expect. "Jealous?"

"Jim has been...different since he found out you were dying. Through our bond, I am sensing a psychic need to be with you, which resembles the pull one bondmate feels toward the other when death is near."

I became confused. "The Jim of this universe and I are not bondmates. When I melded with him, there was no bond formed. You are his t'hy'la, not I."

"I know this, but the facts remain. Any explanation I could offer would venture into the metaphysical, and this is not a worthy place to dwell. Jim is an emotional creature. I cannot predict how he will react when you pass."

I could feel the pain emanating off my younger self at this admission. I had no reason why Jim might be reacting as he was toward me. There was no real telepathic or familial connection between us. I knew Jim would grieve due to our closeness, but I did not consider Spock seeing it as a threat.

"Jim loves you, not me," I finally said. "You know this, as does he. If there is any feeling between us, it is nothing like what you both share."

"I realize my feelings are illogical, which is why I am voluntarily extricating myself from the situation. I cannot risk projecting negative feelings in your final moments. I would prefer you remember...this moment."

It was hard to believe this was the same who was crying on my shoulder minutes ago.

"These feelings grieve me," Spock continued. "Because I...will miss you. You have been important to me and my people, even of others did not who you truly were. You have allowed Jim and I to come together. This has brought me more joy than I can describe."

"You do not have to," I assured him. "I have felt it before."

The next day, more of my organs started failing. None of this brought me as much pain as the failure of my mind. My spells of incoherence were intermittent, but I still feared I would be a blubbering invalid in my moments of mortality. I started seeing things which were not there, and trembled in fear at the evil creatures crawling all over. I had looked at the latter symptoms of brain cancer before coming to the Enterprise, but my hybrid physiology must have caused differences between my expected progression and what I was now experiencing.

All through my thrashing and screaming, Jim was there. He held my hand and used a warm cloth ease the fever now coursing through me. I had been coming in and out of coherence, and when I came to myself I remember seeing my own Jim and grabbing at him to protect me. I could not even look at this version of my bondmate after these moments, especially after what Spock had told me earlier. I tried to be careful, but I could not stop the strong urges to be near this man.

"I am...sorry," I said after yet another spell.

"It's okay," he had told me, brushing my tussled bangs away from my face.

No, it was not okay. Jim should not be asked to shoulder this burden at so young an age. Like other Vulcans, I should have been surrounded by children and grandchildren - not this human.

"You should...go," I gasped out. It was becoming harder to breath as the seconds continued ticking by. "I do not..."

"No," Jim said. "I'm not going anywhere."

At that moment, Jim left his chair and crawled into bed with me. He took me into his arms and allowed me to lay my head on his shoulder. My mind was screaming that this was wrong, although my body offered no resistance. I knew then that I had wanted this from the moment I received my diagnosis. In fact, I likely wanted from the time I saved this man's life in Delta Vega. I was ashamed.

"You are Spock," Jim said, as if he had heard my thoughts. "Whatever universe you are in, you are Spock. My ashayam."

Not for the first time that day, I cried. My hand had long since lost the strength to grip, so I simply placed my hand on his chest, feeling his heart. He in turn, placed his hand over my side, to feel my weak, irregular heartbeat.

Again, I felt my mind slipping. I looked up and saw my Jim's face smiling back at me, just like he did when we laid together in another Enterprise. I leaned forward and kissed his lips, just like I had then. In turn, the kiss was returned, and a cool hand laid on my cheek.

I did not want to come back to myself. I was in heaven again. I was with Jim, after so long. Then, like a hammer, I realized where I was, and who I was with. I pulled away as quick as my failing body would allow. I closed my eyes, unable to face the man who had given me this amazing gift.

"I..." I could not say I was sorry again, because it felt so trite. I was not sorry. For a moment, I was with my beloved. Even if my soul did dissipate and my consciousness died, I would be happy with this last moment being the last I felt.

"Spock."

My eyes shot open as I heard my name said in a breathy, drawn out manner my Jim had used for so long. I remember it annoyed me at first, but later became my fondest memory of him. In front of me, I saw the same young man who had been there all the time, but somehow, I knew it was not the same man.

"Jim," I said, my eyes wet again. I placed my hand on his cheek and wiped tears from my beloved's cheeks. I kissed his forehead. "You have returned to me."

I received no response, only a kiss on the cheek, and then on my chin. I then felt his fingers entwine with mine in the kiss of my people.

We stayed like this for what felt like hours. I felt my heart flutter more than was normal, and a signal flared in my mind, warning me of the impending end.

This was it. I was finished, yet the fear did not come. None of my comtemplation over the past month reared its head. All I felt was peace. I was ready. I looked toward my beloved and said simply, "It is happening."

Jim's lip trembled, but he nodded. He kissed my lips once again, deeper this time. He then took my hands and kissed them as well.

"I have been, and always shall be...yours," I said through failing lungs. I heard sobs from beside me and held Jim's forehead against mine.

"Live long...and prosper."

The last thing I remembered as a member of this mortal coil was a pair of voices.

"It took you long enough, you green-blooded hobgoblin. We've been looking for you across two universes."

"Bones, stop. It wasn't his fault."

"We'll, this is what you get when you wine and dine with Romulans. If I had still been around at the time I would have told him that."

"Not that it would have made a difference. Since when has Spock ever listened to your friendly advice?"

"Since I told him to get off his ass and tell you how he felt."

"Touché."

"Well, here he comes. You ready, Jim?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"I figured. Go off and be happy, you two."

"We will, Bones."

"Yes, Doctor. We will."

_Now this was my deathbed,_

_Died here alone._

_When I closed my eyes tonight,_

_You carried me home_.

A/N: This is my first completed Star Trek story, and I hope everyone enjoyed it. The italicized lyrics are from the Reliant K song "Deathbed."


	2. Chapter 2

I had not been planning on continuing this. I felt the ending of Deathbed spoke for itself. However, there was the nagging plot bunny who wouldn't leave, and now we have this. I hope it lives up to the original.

* * *

It is hard not to think about death when one of your progenitors died young. My dad died a hero, saving 800 lives on a starship destroyed by a fuck-up Romulan. There was no point in it - not to me. Nero still went on to destroy Vulcan, making the 800 lives my father saved look like chump change. I grew up with an asshole step father and a barely-there mother for nothing.

That's why I fucking hate James Kirk, and the universe he came from.

I saw my counterpart from the eyes of an aging Vulcan - a man I could never be. A man who's life was pretty damn good in comparison to mine. He earned the right to have a Vulcan love him. He saw his fair share of pointless death, but never any to the scale of Vulcan. He lived a charmed life. He was fucking perfect. The universe around him made him this way, which made the one I live in seem even more cruel. Not only did my universe shirk the strides made in the past centuries of human existence, but it saw fit to pull others from a better place into the misery. Spock - the older one - did not deserve to be here and wallow in our misery. Yet, this universe was greedy, and saw fit to drag him here to live out his days among strangers.

A tear rolls down my cheek as I think about him - the man we all called Selek for the sake of anonymity and convenience. It had been two weeks since he had died in my arms, muttering the name of his one true love. His funeral had been quick to follow, attended by no more than ten people. My Spock and I were among them, as well as Sarek and a few other Vulcan diplomats. It was a low-key affair, especially since there was no body. As per his wishes, Selek had been cremated and placed in an urn to be spread in open space at the appointed time.

Not all of his ashes had been placed in the urn, though. A small piece of what had once been our friend now lay in my hand within a small vial. My crack smuggling skills made sure of it.

I am sitting on a ledge overlooking New Vulcan. I am naked as the day I was born, unable to stand putting a robe on the the oppressive heat. I look over to the gorgeous bed where Spock lay, sleeping peacefully. Technically this is our honeymoon, since we used the respite on the colony to finally make our relationship official with a Vulcan bonding ceremony. I am still in awe that I - James 'Tomcat' Kirk - would rejoice at being married to a male for the rest of my life. Yet, nothing seems more right.

I look down at the tiny vial in my hands, which had previously been hidden in one of my socks. The particles inside are grey and ugly, and could have easily come from fireplace refuse rather than from a vibrant human body. I find this ironic. Spock and I had talked about how our relationship would not have flourished if not for Selek's intervention. It would be yet another thing this cruel existence would deprive from us - until Selek came along. He planted a seed which would blossom into a flowering tree - a lone beacon of life in an endless desert. If it were not for the previous owner of the ashes in my hand, we would have remained lost in the wilderness forever.

Maybe I don't hate James Kirk after all. He was the one who changed Selek's heart to a point he could become the man who saved my soul. I only hate that it is so much harder for me to gain the happiness that fell into his lap.

I look down at myself, which is an embarrassing habit I have while naked. I am proud of the way I look. At times, I feel like Narcissus who could not stop staring at himself in the mirror. I have a right to admire myself. I work hard to acquire this body. However, whenever the subject of death enters my mind, I can never enjoy it. My looks are fleeting. Selek had been a gorgeous young man at one point with all the vitality in the universe. Honestly, I thought Selek was still a gorgeous man despite his old age, but he did show the obvious signs of deterioration. Now he was reduced to charred remains in a small vial, just like I would be one day.

My time was numbered, and as the universe spun toward it's inevitable end, I did as well. I know I should not be thinking about this at twenty-seven, but watching the future of my beloved had put me in a retrospective mood. What if my accomplishments were reduced to ashes as his were? Did Selek's life still mean anything, even though his James Kirk was long gone? Was there still some piece of Selek's consciousness left in the universe?

This is what it's about, I realize. I do not want Selek to be gone. I don't want to be gone when my time comes. Every person I love and feat I accomplish would one day turn to dust, and there would be nothing left of me given a few more years. I would be nothing but particles floating in the universe, much like Selek's grey ashes. This would not matter if there were some way for his existence to continue, which was a concept I always thought of as wishful thinking.

My mother never discounted the existence of a God, she just thought it was not important. This is the majority view on Earth, and I adopted it as well. If an afterlife did exist, it was nonsensical to think our paltry actions could influence it in any way, or earn God's favor for that matter. There were many who were religious, and many who were hardcore atheists, but I find their certainty unappealing. I enjoy the mystery of life, and find comfort in not knowing all the answers. Spock told me this has been Vulcan's philosophy for thousands of years. Religion did not even enter the equation for them (although I actually argued the ways of Surak sounded a lot like a religion to me, but he predictably dismissed it).

Over time, however, the afterlife became a subject I wanted more certainty about. There came a period in my life I wanted to meet my father, and wondered if there would ever be a possibility. This time came and went when I was a child, but returned with a vengeance when I became captain. I wanted to ask my father's advice and benefit from his wisdom, and even see the look on his face when I followed in his footsteps. Sometimes, the desire to meet him became so overwhelming I cried myself to sleep. Selek had become a nice substitute, but I wanted the real thing. I started thinking on brain science and contemplating how a consciousness could exist apart from the physical plane. I also began to peruse religious texts from a variety of worlds. I did get comfort in realizing many religions were extraordinarily similar. For example, there was a Christ figure on almost every planet in the known galaxy. Still, they were not similar enough. I wanted something solid.

I had stopped this search when I discovered I was in love with Spock. The present then became the most important thing. Focusing on a future I could not change would do no good, because it would take away from the time I had with the most beautiful person I had ever known. However, when Selek died, these distractions came back.

I am startled when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"I thought you were sleeping," I say as I look to my new husband with a warm smile.

He strokes a finger across my cheek. "I have had adequate rest. I do not want to waste this time we have together."

I nod and move over to make room for Spock. He sits behind me and wraps his arms around my torso. He is wrapped in a thin robe, which immediately has me thinking of strategies for its removal in our current position. Spock mentally chides me, saying the time for copulation would be later. He wants us to discuss the thoughts running through our minds.

"You too, huh?" I ask, knowing through our bond his thoughts are straying to death. The difference was his had been there for many years - which was understandable considering what happened to his planet and all which had been built over generations. Now, after seeing an older version of himself die, hey had consumed him even more.

"I never asked you why you insisted on keeping part of Selek's ashes with you," Spock says softly into my ear.

I laugh. "You're the one who helped me steal them. I thought you knew."

"I knew you did not do so with malicious intent, so I contributed what I could. However, I still do not understand the desire to have it."

"Really?" I say, genuinely surprised. "Vulcans have no concept of keeping part of their loved one with them."

"You loved him?" Spock says.

I sigh, hoping he would not get jealous of a man who was barely in the grave. "Yes, I loved him, but not like I love you." I ran my fingers across his in a Vulcan kiss. "He was very important to me, and I'm going to miss him. Isn't that enough?"

Spock stiffens. I can tell he wants to say something, but he does not want it to be taken the wrong way.

"Spit it out, Spock."

My husband relents. "It is illogical for me to consider these details important, but my human side is quite stubborn in this matter. I could tell you were drawn to Selek in his final moments, much like a bondmate would be to his dying partner."

I shake my head. "No, Spock. It wasn't like that."

"Please allow me to finish, Jim. I am not accusing you. You might not have realized it, but your mind showed signatures of this draw. I hypothesized Selek's mind emitted signals which drew the mind most similar to his bondmate's, which was you."

I relax against Spock. This makes sense. I wanted more than anything to be near Selek all the time, but I thought that was normal when a friend was dying. No one had said anything to me to indicate it was unusual - at least to my face.

"I did not know how strong this draw was," Spock continues. "Until I felt you kiss him."

Now it is my turn to grow stiff, and allow the precious time with my dying friend to the forefront of my consciousness. Emotion wells up in my stomach as I thought back to watching this great man reduced to crying out to ghosts and allowing emotion to destroy his hard-earned control. To be honest, Selek's last moments are a blur. My only vivid recollection is the enraptured look on his face when the end came, and the almost inaudible last words, "Yes, Doctor. We will." Whatever that meant.

Once every ounce of moisture had been squeezed out of my body from crying, I did notice my swollen lips, and the unmistakable taste of Vulcan on my tongue. I knew I had kissed him, but was was not ashamed. I felt like I had been somewhat of a guide into death, allowing Selek to experience one last pleasure before leaving. I just wish the pleasure had not been based on a lie.

"He thought I was his Jim," I say, not sounding contrite, but matter-of-fact. "He said I had returned to him."

"Such a reaction is...understandable."

"Yes, but you know what? Those moments lying with him were a blur, but I do know I almost felt I was his Jim Kirk. I saw him like I did a man I commanded for years, who I know better than my left hand. It was a bizarre sensation, which I kind of dismissed afterward. I have not really thought on it since then."

"What are you trying to say, Jim?"

I shrug. I honestly do not know. Do I think I 'became' Selek's bondmate when he took his last breaths? Of course not. Or do I? If I were him, there would be no one to meet Selek when he crossed over. Or did that matter? Why am I talking as if an eternal reunion were a given? I think again to the mystery of the universe, and how nothing really was certain, despite all the knowledge we had attained.

Knowing my thoughts, Spock holds me closer.

"Your thought processes are familiar to me. I have thought on various possibilities since I lost my mother and my people. Our Hall of Ancient Thought was lost, as were the billions of souls housed inside. I cannot help but wonder if they dissipated, or if they live on somehow. The logical conclusion to such a query would be that the imagined possibility of an afterlife would only be a defense mechanism against further distress, but our kator-dva healers showed every katra in the Hall was perfectly intact, and would remain so forever. I cannot help but wonder of this would be true outside the hall."

"I hope so," I say, grasping Spock's hand. "Honestly, a single lifetime with you is not enough."

Spock buries his head in my neck. I swear I feel a tremble in his breath, but I know better than to bring it up.

"I do not know what I will do when I lose you," he says sadly. I fight back tears at the sorrow he projects. We both know my lifetime would be shorter than his, maybe even less so with my incurable recklessness. The pain in his voice makes my heart ache. I know Selek's pain well, and to imagine Spock going through the same on top of what he has already gone through is unthinkable.

I kiss his hand. "You have me now." I whisper. "You'll have me for a long time. No use mourning over what hasn't happened yet."

Spock nods against me, and quickly changes the subject. "You never answered my question. Why did you want the ashes?"

"I did so answer you."

"I distinctly recall you, as you humans say, bullshitting me."

I can not help but chuckle at a curse word coming out of his mouth, and based on his projections, he is amused as well.

"Yeah, you're right. I guess hiding him in one of my socks would not be a fine way to remember him."

"No, I would agree."

"I guess I...thought we might find a small window into his universe one day. Maybe send him home." I know the suggestion sounds stupid and childish from the moment it leaves my mouth, but Spock does not judge me. If anything, his love for me quadrupled. In our time together, I discovered that some weird and random things turned Spock on - not that I mind.

"Ashayam," Spock says reverently. "You know this is impossible, and yet you want to try."

"Yes," I reply, swimming in the sea of feeling he is surrounding me in. I only hope I can reciprocate in kind. "He...did not deserve what happened to him."

"If this was your intention, why did you not convince Sarek to save all the ashes with this in mind?"

"I thought he would find the concept illogical. I did not have any issues with most of Selek's remains staying here. He told me..." Oh God, here it comes. The lump in my throat is keeping me from talking, but I know I have to finish. "He told me everyone he had known was gone, and here they had been returned to him. I think he liked it here better than the other place, except for, you know..."

"Yes," Spock says. "It is admirable you want to do such a thing." He kisses the side of my face, causing me to leak all the more. I fucking hate crying, especially with Spock around.

"I miss him," I choke out. "I miss him so damn much."

"I know, ashayam. I miss him, too."

"I...think I could have loved him. I could have...been his Jim. Sometimes I feel guilty for choosing you instead of him."

"Such guilt is not logical, Jim," Spock says, again with complete understanding. How can any man be this perfect? "He had his love for a time, and he was...taken. Such is the way of...the universe."

I can tell Spock is getting emotional as well, but fighting with all his might to control it. I can not be helping with my grief shooting through the bond like an archer's arrow.

"Hey," I say. "Since both of us are not going to get to sleep anytime soon..."

"I do not have adequate control to 'fool around,' Jim. It would not be a pleasant experience for you."

"Damn," I say, disappointed but playful. We have all week to fool around, so if we can not at this time, then this is alright with me. "Well, how 'bout a compromise? Have you ever played chess naked before?"

Spock gives me a ghost of a smile. "No, but I am always always open to trying new experiences."

I am awed as I watch the colors swirl and combine around me. There are surging feelings and sensations happening around me I wanted to feel, but could not participate.

"Jim," Spock says from behind me. He appears frightened, so I grab his hand and squeeze. We stand close together, feeling out of place here - as if our physical bodies set us apart from trillions of life forms around us.

"We always accept visitors," says an echo from behind us. Within the echo, I make out the crackled voice of Selek.

Spock and I turn to see a figure whose appearance made my eyes hurt. It was Selek, that is certain, but behind him is a large group of ghostly figures - all with familiar pointed ears and brown eyes. Selek's doppelgängers are all of different ages. Some are small infants and others were shriveled old men. There is even a younger one who has a goatee, which I find amusing. Selek was up front, his warm eyes immediately welcoming.

Without words, I run into his arms and immediately kiss him, not caring my new husband is watching. He returns my kisses and wraps me in his arms, squeezing me tight enough I think I am choking.

"Spock," I say to him, being sure to use his true name.

"Jim," he says as he places kisses along my jaw. "This is a pleasant surprise seeing you here."

"Pleasant surprise? I thought you were dead."

"Your thoughts were correct, Jim."

Suddenly, I remember where I am and who I am with. I pull away immediately and turn back to Spock, preparing for the explanation of a lifetime. However, I see there is no need, because he is making out fervently with another familiar old man. It is me at about 60, only with a similar entourage of ghostly copies behind him. There are at least twice as many as Selek has, which makes me curious.

"These are our selves for other universes," Selek says, sensing my confusion. "Out of the infinite number of parallel universes, 47 have some version of me, while 74 had a version of Jim. Out of the universes with me in them, only 40 managed to find Jim. Well, 41 now."

I stand awestruck, staring at the scene before me. I look back at Selek, unable to say words.

"Oddly enough," he continues. "The universe I lived in was the first where our love branched out and affected the others - at least where it was possible to do so. I was quite humbled when I found this out."

Still speechless, I watch a smiling Spock lead the older version of me by the hand to where we stand. I have never seen such an expression on my beloved's face. I reach for him immediately and throw my arms around him, as if not doing so will cause the universe to implode.

"It still gets me when I see this," the older me says. He then puts a hand on my shoulder, causing me to face him for the first time. He does not look as old as Selek. He has spots of grey hair around the gold, and amazingly few wrinkles. He opens his mouth to speak, but seems just as tongue-tied as I am.

"I don't know what to tell you that won't sound cliche," he finally tells me. "But I did want to thank you for taking care of Spock, and allowing me to find him - and be with him one last time as we were."

Selek takes Kirk's hand, and I start to feel my knees give to as I process what he said.

"H-how?" I squeak out.

"We are all connected," Kirk continued. "Every Jim Kirk from every universe is a part of you, whether you notice it or not. This is how we were able to find my Spock and differentiate him from others."

Tears are running down my face now. I feel my Spock's lips on my face, trying to kiss my tears away. I am far too unworthy to know these things - to be with these people.

"We?" Spock asks between kisses. "All of these people looked for Selek?"

"No, these men are one with me in the place" Selek says. "Jim joined Dr. McCoy in his search for me."

"Bones?" I ask, finally breaking my silence. "You saw...that's what you meant."

"Yes," Selek says, placing his hand on my head.

"Why?" Spock asks the pair. "Why, of all the organisms in this galaxy, were we imparted with this information?"

"It's one of those mysteries of this universe, I guess," Kirk says, as if that is the last word. I am not satisfied with this, but I also know I can not question it. I need not look a gift horse in the mouth.

"While I have you here, Jim, there are a few things I need to clear up," Kirk says to me. "My life wasn't easy either. There is no need to hate the universe I came from. I endured hardships just as you did. They made me who I am, just as they made you who you are. Am I sounding too preachy?"

I shake my head.

"Good. One of my greatest fears was becoming a moral preacher like my granddad."

"Our time is running short," Selek says. "Jim, I wanted to thank you for vowing to take my remains home."

"Do...you approve?" I say, feeling more than ever how much this man had been a father to me. "I...did not want you to..."

"I know, Jim. it would mean the world to me if it is possible, though I must admit I will not mind either way. Please know, you are never alone - either or you. Take these things to heart..."

A loud crash jolts me up from the bed, causing me to almost fall to the floor. The same happens to Spock. I slump downward, cursing the Vulcan construction crews for starting their work before the sun is even up. Do they not know there is a sound-sensitive starship captain sleeping nearby?

"Jim," Spock says in a serious voice. I turn to him, worried. I hope there had not been any traumas these sounds had revived within his psyche - for his sake and my own.

"What is it?" I ask, stroking his cheek with my thumb.

He pauses, his eyes scrunched in concentration, as if trying to discern from my own mind whether or not to ask the question.

"Did you...dream?"

I sigh. I always hate this question. "C'mon Spock, you know I don't remember my dreams. Fun product of PTSD treatment.r Why do you ask? I thought Vulcans didn't dream?"

"They...do not," he replies, although by his tone I don't believe him. "Please forget I said anything." He finishes.

I know I probably shouldn't, especially since he looks so distressed - as if he has lost something. For the moment, I decide to bow to his wishes. "Well, since your kinsmen are probably not gonna shut up anytime soon, are you ready to fool around now?"

A subtle Vulcan smile lights up Spock's face as he places a hand on my naked chest.


End file.
